


Smoldering

by naturallesbain



Category: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: cursing, may or may not continue, mentioned blood and burns, mutant AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29835099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naturallesbain/pseuds/naturallesbain
Summary: He didn't know what he was, though he knew that he was no longer that cold when he had to stay in the lot during the winter and fall seasons.This is johnny centricComment, kudos, anything! Comments keep me going :)
Kudos: 3





	Smoldering

**Author's Note:**

  * For [liamthegreaser](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liamthegreaser/gifts), [chaotically_cas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaotically_cas/gifts).



He didn't know how long he's known about his talent, nor did Johnny know how long he'd learned how to use it. All he knew was that one day it was easier to keep warm. It tingled down his arms, sparks coursing through his veins and exploding out his fingertips in a dangerous light. He lit up sparks at night, cold biting at his cheeks and nose only to be soothed by that precious fire. The fire burned a pit inside of him that never filled over the years, yearning to find someone like him. 

"Johnnycake!" Two startled Johnny out of his thoughts, hand shoving his shoulder in a playful matter as they went to walk down the street. The two had just hit up an old shop, the man there was half-blind, and they could practically steal right in front of him. "You wanna go to the Curtis's? Bother them a little?" The redhead joked, nudging Johnny and handing him a pack of cancer sticks. Johnny nodded, graciously taking the cigarettes. 

It was November. Cold had washed over Tulsa, leaving animals huddling for warmth and people tugging on their coats to prepare for the morning freeze as they headed out to work. It made Johnny wish it was summer, though he had more of an excuse to use his talent -though he wasn't sure what to call it nowadays -. 

"You think it'll snow?" Johnny looked up at Two, a small smile forming at his lips at the last memory of snow. It had snowed a week before the holidays, thick and falling in blankets. The seven of them had played in the snow all day. 

"Maybe, but it's pretty warm right now, doncha think?" Johnny hummed, nodding his head as they quickly made their way to the Curtis house. It felt like the trip took longer, but they both knew that the cold was to blame. 

\--

The old gate scraped against the concrete. The two had finally made it to the Curtis house after what seemed like an hour, though it couldn't have been more than twenty minutes. Their feet thudded up the stairs and through the door, a chorus of hellos. It was warmer in the Curtis house, and Johnny had to mimic rubbing his hands together for warmth. His talent -mutation- made it easier to keep him warm. Johnny sat down on the couch next to Ponyboy, whose nose was in a book like always. The rest of the gang, minus Darry, were at the table. The familiarity made his heartache. 

"Whatcha readin' about?" Johnny said, scooting closer to Ponyboy, smiling lightly in greeting. 

"Nothin' new. Just rereading Lord of the Flies," Ponyboy glanced at him, dark red hair falling into his eyes. 

"Could you tell me more about it? You said you always find something new about a book the second or third time you reread it," Johnny pushed on, wanting nothing more than to just let Ponyboy rant to him. Johnny liked hearing Ponyboy rant about something he loved since it always took his mind off things. 

"You'll fall asleep on me, you doof," Ponyboy joked with Johnny, the two laughing at the soft insult. "But fine." 

Johnny reclined, feet resting on Ponyboy's lap as he let his soft voice wash over him. It felt like he was actually in the story with the boys, stranded on that island. 

\--

Johnny woke with a start, hands grabbing the hands shaking him on his shoulders. In his eyes, he saw his father ready to beat him. 

"No!" Johnny yelled. He could feel the sparks rushing through his veins to explode out his fingertips, burning his attacker. The smell of smoke and blood filled his senses, yelling making him flinch. When he finally came to, he saw the burn marks on Steve's arms, the burnt flannel where his hands had rested. 

"What the fuck!"


End file.
